Saving Grace
by Lady Kathleen
Summary: When Kira disappeared the Demon's War broke out, tearing apart any semblance of order there had ever been. When the purification process is placed into the hands of a single girl 200 years later, she must fight through hoards of government officials and conspiracy theorists to discover the truth behind the chains that have been wrapped around humanity. How far will she make it?
1. Chapter 1

Akira Amamiya gazed out the floor to ceiling windows, the bright sun and soft breeze calling to her. She sighed as her professor droned on about who-knows-what. At seventeen, she thought it would be a good idea to just get University over with. But, my _god_ , what a bore. She'd have to see her advisor after class. This just wasn't working for her. It was the beginning of her second semester… she was still within the deadline to get a full refund of her tuition. Father's money wouldn't go to waste.

Turning back to the front of the class, she tried to focus on the lesson. She might as well get something out of the next hour. Tapping her fingers impatiently on her desk, she didn't bother taking notes as everyone around her rushed to keep up with the lecture. The screen in front of her consisted mostly of doodles of flowers and squiggly lines. Her therapist would just _love_ to dissect these. Just what did the daisy in the right hand corner say about her deepest, innermost self? Or, better yet, what was she thinking about when she split the screen in half with a solid, straight line?

A folded up piece of paper landed on her desk. Glancing up, a young man with a handsome smile caught her eye and waved, winking at her. Smiling back, Akira picked up the note and, ensuring that he was watching her, threw it to the girl next to her. He frowned, glancing at the mousy looking girl with a look of wonder on her face, and turned back to the professor. Akira rolled her eyes. She had been on a date with him just last week and made it very clear that she wasn't interested in seeing him or his oversized ego again. What kind of guy doesn't even compliment the _incredibly_ flattering cocktail dress his date is wearing?

Another paper fluttered down next to her, catching her eye. She sighed as it missed her desk and looked around, searching for the culprit. Whoever it was was too shy to gage her reaction. Leaning over, Akira picked up the piece of paper. They got annoying, but she loved getting these notes. Sure, they were immature, but she couldn't blame them. And it was touching that they would go through the trouble of bringing paper and a pencil to class just to get her attention. She rushed out of her classes so quickly she never gave anyone a chance to approach her. She hated to linger, opting to spend most of her time at the University in one of the many art studios.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Akira held her breath. It was blank. Was this a joke? Perhaps. There were a few girls in this class who didn't particularly like her. She had, admittedly, been a bit of a bitch when they grouped together for a project and she turned down every one of their ideas. But, come _on_ , the philosophical meaning behind the new black becoming floral? Not an idea she wanted to be associated with, regardless of her love for fashion. Shaking her head, Akira's long hair fell around her shoulders, blocking her face from the views of those next to her.

Searching the little piece of paper once again for any sign of a scribble, she looked up to search the room for the culprit. With a quick intake of breath, her eyes widened and she froze as her eyes found her professor. Standing next to him, unbeknownst to him it seemed, was the tallest man she had ever seen. He stood completely still, watching her with a straight face. His long, fair hair almost covered his golden eyes. The giant, black horns protruding from his head seemed almost normal. Scars covered his bare, muscular chest. He wore nothing more than a pair of jeans she was sure came from that new store down the street that she would never admit she ever set foot in.

Akira spent the rest of the hour staring at this otherworldly being, who stared right back. His eyes seemed to pierce her soul, causing her breath to come out in quick, sporadic gasps. She felt a tap on her shoulder and flinched, her eyes never leaving the golden ones that she had found.

"Psst, Akira, are you okay? You got so tense all of a sudden…" the girl she had thrown her previous note to whispered fiercely, still clutching the note in her hand. Akira nodded slowly and forced a little smile.

"Of course, I've just been finding this part of the lecture incredibly intriguing…" Akira trailed off. The girl raised an eyebrow and shrugged, turning back to the professor. The being at the head of the classroom slowly curled his lips into a smile. Akira blushed profusely for reasons unknown to her. The blank paper still in her hand, she gripped the sides of her desk.

"Calm down, calm down, calm down…" Akira muttered to herself, not bothering to hope no one would hear her. It was obvious no one else was seeing the man towering over their professor. Perhaps this was the psychotic break her therapist was sure would happen someday. She had never gotten the dramatic breakthrough she so desperately wanted Akira to have. Akira assumed the woman was simply an overemotional moron that she happened to get along really well with.

The being turned to face her professor. Akira couldn't breathe. When the professor turned to the board to start writing, the entire class looked up. The professor rarely, if ever, utilized the board. Curious faces watched him as he started to draw with a finger, a projector somewhere in the room reading his movements and producing red. No one could anticipate what was being drawn, his movements quick and full of purpose. After a moment, the professor stepped away, took a deep breath, and ran. He ran full throttle towards the window, to the outside world that Akira had previously so longed to be in.

With a crash, the window shattered upon the professor's impact. The room was spiked with fear and confusion. Akira stood slowly, watching her professor fall to the ground, covered in bloody gashes. They were on the first floor, the windows had no safety system installed. The professor staggered to his feet and continued onward, toward a bridge full of rushing cars.

Akira stumbled toward the broken window, the glass crunching beneath her boots. The godly being forgotten, she watched with her classmates as the professor fell to his knees in the middle of the bridge, automated cars swerving around him and stopping at the side of the road. Akira vaguely heard one of her classmates on a phone, frantically begging for help. She watched as her professor heaved himself up, looked about himself, confused, and started for the railing at the side of the road. The next thing she knew, he had thrown himself over the ledge.

She knew his body would be crushed against the boulders at the bottom, resting in the center of a large lake. She staggered back, turning and shoving her way through her classmates. Many had tears staining their faces. Akira pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to control her breathing. Her eyes widening with realization, she spun around, searching the room for the man with horns. He was nowhere to be seen. Shocked, she fell to her knees.

Looking up, Akira stared at the board. On it was a drawing of a bright red apple with a bite taken out of it.

* * *

"Did you know him at all?" Akira gazed, bleary eyed, at her therapist. She hadn't slept last night. She had been too confused.

"No. I only sat in on his lectures," she answered. She sat cross legged on a plush blue couch, her long red hair pulled over her shoulder. She ran her fingers through it absentmindedly. Akira's professor had committed suicide three days ago. Immediately after the incident, after she had spoken to the police and gave them her information, she had charged to the advisor's office and dropped all of her classes. They did so with a full refund, no questions asked.

But she couldn't get those golden eyes out of her head.

She spent the next few days alone in her apartment, painting and thinking. She kept the blank piece of paper with her, folded up in a locket that she had worn around her neck every day since she was twelve. She considered every possible thing her therapist would ask her. Every assumption she would make. She would definitely claim that Akira had finally had a psychotic break after years of grief and denial. Why else would she be seeing incredibly attractive men with devil horns and gold eyes?

Akira had decided to keep the horned man to herself. The memory was too real to be dismissed as a hallucination. She could still feel the power that radiated from him. His confidence was so absolute, Akira didn't deny that he had to power to do anything.

"Akira?" her therapist was frowning at her. Uh oh.

"Sorry, Tabitha. I was just dwelling on the past few days…" Akira smiled at her. Tabitha, her therapist for nearly ten years now, was an American woman in her late 40s. She had come to Japan for her PhD, fell in love, and never left. Akira would never admit this aloud, but the woman had become like a mother to her. "I didn't know the professor at all. But he seemed like such a decent man… so sure of himself. From what I heard, his family is in just as much shock as the rest of us." Akira watched for Tabitha's reaction. She nodded vigorously.

"His wife was horrified. I met her once at a seminar…" Tabitha went off on a tangent. She was such a gossip. Akira loved and hated it. It made her a _horrible_ therapist. What did she say about Akira to her other patients? Was she the crazy one? The hormonal teenager? The sob story? She'd probably never know.

"Tabitha, what do you know about…" Akira didn't finish as something caught her eye. A quick flash outside the window. She was on the fourth story, so perhaps a bird. But it didn't move at all like one. Her imagination? Probably, but she didn't think so.

"About what, dear?" Tabitha asked patiently. Akira stared out the window a moment more, making a quick decision.

"The stages of grief?" she finished. She was going to say hallucinations, but a gut wrenching feeling warned her not to. When did her intuition become so accurate?

"Oh, I'm glad you asked," Tabitha smiled brightly. She then launched into an extremely detailed explanation about the five stages of grief, relating each one to Akira's personal circumstances. Akira continued to stare out the window, her eyes narrowed. She even pinched herself a few times.

"Unfortunately, our time is up, but next month we can definitely continue…" Tabitha kept talking as she walked Akira out. She went so far as to take the elevator with her to the ground floor and accompany her to the entrance. Akira smiled at her as they hugged goodbye. She really did like Tabitha. Sometimes.

With a sigh, Akira started a slow walk to the closest bus station. With a purse over one shoulder and her hair over the other, she watched the cars speed by, driving themselves and their occupants to their destinations. She closed her eyes as a strong wind hit her head on and she stopped. Glancing back to the huge, generic business district she was leaving, she turned around and headed back. Quickly and purposefully, she made her way back to the front doors of the building she had just left.

She paused, glancing to her left and to her right. Advertisements lit up the windows around her, switching between the flashing lights of a sale at Barney's and the workers within the building, who wouldn't be aware of the images outside their windows. Confirming that no one else was around to see her, she veered to the left and marched around the corner of the building, searching the grass.

She occasionally glanced about herself, nervous of being caught looking for a hallucination. She looked up, hoping no one happened to be looking out any of the windows. She searched the grounds frantically, eager to prove her insanity and get out of there. With a sigh, she concluded that she was insane and turned to leave, only to trip.

Grumbling about rocks and her shoelaces, Akira transferred her weight to her butt and glared at the ground in front of her, needing something to take her frustration out on. On the ground, in plain view she told herself bitterly, was a black notebook. Huffing, Akira grabbed it and stood up, opening it up. Flipping through the pages, she found that they were all blank, except the very first one.

Her eyes narrowed, Akira ran her finger along the missing corner of the page. She bit her lip as she remembered the note in her locket. Then writing on the page caught her eye, scrolled in elegant black ink. Who was carrying around not only an old fashioned notebook, but an ink pen? Reading the words, though, Akira held her breath and gripped the pages tightly, crunching them together.

In a quick and fluid motion, Akira jammed the notebook into her purse, glad she had opted for her large turquoise one today. Then, heading in the opposite direction from which she had come, she hurried home.

The bus ride took entirely too long, although it was only a five minute ride from Tabitha's office to her apartment. She stomped to the elevators, smiling at the receptionist and hurrying to an empty one. She pressed the button for her floor several times before she started to shoot upward. At the top floor, Akira ran to the end of the hallway and burst into her apartment, breathing heavily. Thank god for elevators. She had insisted on having this apartment, though. The far corner of the top floor was perfect inspiration for her creative mind. She had waited 6 months for the residence to become available.

Slamming the door behind her, she leaned back against the door and slid to the ground, letting out a sigh and closing her eyes. Okay, so one of her hallucinations _had_ been real. That was at least a tiny bit comforting. Her eyes remaining closed, she dug through her purse and pulled out the notebook. With a deep breath, she hugged the black book to her chest.

"I'm definitely not insane… I'm definitely not insane…" she repeated to herself. She held on to the realness of the notebook, not trusting herself to open her eyes. Her vision hasn't been reliable lately. With a chime, an automated voice on an intercom spoke.

"The dinner you've requested is ready!" The voice was cheerful. Akira sighed and opened her eyes slightly, looking at the book in her arms. She tilted it away from her body to see the cover.

"Death Note…" she muttered the title. "What kind of sick joke is this?" With a glare, she stood up and looked forward, prepared to head to the kitchen. She froze before she could move her feet.

A tall man wearing nothing but jeans stood at the end of the hall, watching her with an amused grin on his face. His horns curled menacingly forward and his golden eyes glittered in the light of the setting sun. Akira took a step back as something behind him twitched. Something she had somehow overlooked, being captivated by his eyes. Two large black wings protruded from his back, covered in heavy chains. They looked torn and ragged, but beautiful all the same. Akira worked to make her mouth move. The man took a step toward her and she flinched away, slamming her heel against the door. He paused as she raised a shaky finger, pointing to his wings.

"Have those always been there?" Akira asked in what she considered a surprisingly strong voice. The man raised his eyebrows.

"Of course."

Akira screamed, throwing the notebook at him with all her might. She crouched into the corner and covered her head with her arms, flinching as she heard the satisfying sound of contact.

"I am officially a basket case…" Akira muttered as the man muttered a surprised, 'Ow!'


	2. Chapter 2

Akira stayed curled up in her corner, her weary eyes glued to her intruder. He sat across from her, cross legged, periodically letting out bursts of laughter. He had set the Death Note between them, on the floor. The sun had set long ago and Akira had received two more warnings for her dinner. She refused to move, though, sure that she was stuck in some sort of nightmare, passed out in Tabitha's office. The strange man rustled his wings, startling her.

"Dinner will begin to spoil," Akira's intercom warned her. With shaky hands, she reached up to a little white box on the wall, having to shift to her knees to reach it. Glancing at the screen, she made a few swiping motions and turned off the system. The apartment would now remain quiet.

"Technology has advanced so much in the time I've been gone," the man commented. Akira flinched.

"What are you?" she spit out. She glared at him as he laughed yet again.

"I'm a Shinigami." His eyes glowed as he spoke the word.

"Are you real?" she had to ask. The chains on his wings clinked together as he shifted.

"Do I sound real?"

"Yes."

"Do I look real?"

"In a sense." He laughed at that. What was so goddamn funny? He held out his hand and Akira flinched away, wishing she could shrink further into her corner. But, alas, it was a finite space.

"Do I feel real?" Was it just her or did his voice suddenly get gruff? She eyed him carefully as he waited patiently with his outstretched hand. Then, hesitantly, she inched her hand toward his, biting her lip in anticipation. She stopped an inch from his outstretched palm, not feeling any heat or lack thereof, but not feeling an absence either. Squeezing her eyes shut, Akira thrust her hand into his, flinching as she made contact with skin. She opened her eyes slowly, squeaking in surprise as she saw his hand close around her own. He made her feel small and insignificant.

"What…" she took a deep breath as she watched their hands clasped together. "Who are you?" she asked. The horned man pulled his hand away, making her own feel suddenly cold. Akira gazed up at him, pushing her hair out of her face and forcing herself to look at his haunting eyes.

"My name is Light," he introduced himself.

"How ironic," Akira grumbled. Light gave her a wide grin and chuckled.

"Well perhaps you would know me better as Kira." Akira raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, my name is _Akira_. That would be much too confusing," she muttered. She dropped her hand to the notebook between them. The man, Light, paused. She glanced up and saw evidence of confusion on his face.

"No," he spoke strongly. " _The_ Kira. The God of this world," he explained. Akira ran her fingers over the words _Death Note_. She shook her head.

"I have no clue what you're referring to, but I'm going to stick to Light," she responded. Light clenched his teeth together, glaring at her. The two sat in silence for a time, enveloped in darkness. With the sun gone, Akira hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. She had been too afraid to move. But the moonlight creeping up the hall and around Light gave her enough illumination to study the notebook once again. "What is this thing? What is it to you?" Akira demanded, referring to the note. Light didn't answer. He simply reached over and opened the front cover, tapping on the long inscription printed on the opposite side. Akira glanced up at him before reading aloud:

"The human whose name is written in this note shall die." She paused, running her fingers through the pages of the book.

"This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

"If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

"If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

"After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

"This note shall become the property of the human world, once it touches the ground of (arrives in) the human world.

"The owner of the note can recognize the image and voice of its original owner, i.e. a god of death.

"The human who uses this note can neither go to Heaven nor Hell…" Akira clenched her teeth together. She knew Light was watching her closely. Abruptly, she stood, carrying the notebook. After a few moments, Light stood with her. With a strangled gasp, Akira saw his feet float a few inches above the ground. With a screech, Akira threw the note at the Shinigami. Expecting the attack, Light simply dodged the book, letting it clatter down the hallway.

"What kind of nonsense is this? Is this some sort of sick joke? My professor's name is written in this!" Akira glared at Light, pointing a shaky hand to the note behind him. "Hisao Abe. Suicide. Draw a picture of a red apple, with a bite taken out of it, in front of his 9 o'clock philosophy class. Proceed to commit suicide by taking the most direct route to the bottom of the University Lake." Akira glared at the otherworldly being before her. "And Heaven? Hell? Bullshit! Religion died out years ago! I will not be caught with spiritual nonsense and forced into a Refinement home. I don't want anything to do with you or that wretched book!" Akira yelled. She was breathing heavily. She glanced about herself quickly, as if she could see through the walls and know who heard her outburst. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turned the hall light on and shoved her way passed Light, making her way through the apartment and turning on every light she could find. It wasn't difficult; there was only a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom.

Light picked up the notebook and followed her throughout the home. She didn't bother trying to avoid him when he got in her way, simply pushing him to the side. When Akira ended up on her small sofa with her head in her hands, Light stood before her.

"Hisao Abe was accused of pedophilia eighteen years ago. He got off without any convictions, lived in seclusion for a couple of years, and then took up his job as a philosophy professor at your school. Ever since, he has been handing out grades based on sexual favors. I'm sure you heard rumors about it at some point. Something like that never goes completely unnoticed," Light explained. Akira glared up at him.

"Professor Abe was a good man. Those girls wanted nothing more than attention," she fought back. Light nodded and left her, walking through a wall to her room. Akira stared at the place where he entered, her mouth hanging open. He came back out through the door, carrying her thin laptop. He set it on her lap, startling her. "What is this? What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Search for it. Hisao Abe, 2179," Light ordered. After a moment, Akira nodded and opened the laptop. After hitting the right keys and clicking search, she clicked through a couple of pages of results before she found a picture of a younger version of her professor. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Akira clicked on the link.

"Hisao Abe, tried for the rape of 21 girls under the age of thirteen and killing at least 10, was released the morning of August 1, 2179. He was not convicted. His alibi held unwaveringly throughout the case…" Akira trailed off, scanning through the rest of the article. She shook her head slowly, getting to the end. "When asked what he would be doing with his freedom, Hisao Abe simply smiled and said, 'This case has taught me that life is just too short… I'll take a break for now. Find myself. But after some time away, I think I'll follow a dream of mine. I've always loved teaching…'" Akira stopped, the words stuck in her throat. After a few deep breaths she asked Light, "How did you know about this?" Light watched her from the other side of the room, floating between the floor and the ceiling. Akira looked up at him expectantly and repeated the question. "How did you know?"

"I have spent a very long time watching you, Akira Amamiya… You caught my attention when you were six years old. Your primary school teacher was absolutely convinced that you were borderline retarded. Your father was angry beyond belief…" Light chuckled as he looked back on the memory. "They both agreed on an IQ test. At six years old, you scored an intelligence quotient of 136." Akira looked down, remembering. She bit her bottom lip. How did he know this?

"That alone wasn't quite enough to make my decision, however… when you were kidnapped at eight years old, I knew you were the one," Light smiled sadly at her. "This futuristic world… this hell. It has become so binding to its people, only someone who has suffered could possibly be up to the task I need completed. As I watched you, I saw him and every other despicable human being who would cross your path."

"Futuristic world? What are you getting at?" Akira demanded. She stared at the article in front of her, finding it difficult to believe. Light frowned at her for the second time that night. Akira found that she didn't like it.

"I told you. I'm Kira." Akira glared at him.

"And I told you. I don't know what you mean by that. Are you trying to tell me that being a Shinigami makes you my God?" she argued. Light narrowed his eyes at her.

"Look for it on the internet. Search for Kira. Anywhere from 2005 to 2010," he demanded. Akira crossed her arms and shook her head, leaning back on the sofa.

"You'd better wish me luck while you're at it, because finding anything outside of ridiculous propaganda before the war is nearly impossible," Akira explained. Light did not look happy.

"What are you talking about? I've been watching this world for more than ten years now. Just look for Kira, you'll…" Light trailed off, looking to his side as if listening to something. Akira watched him carefully, her arms still crossed defiantly. "The Demon's War…?" he muttered.

"If you've been somehow watching me, shouldn't you know? Sometime around 2015, there was some sort of gang war. Or mafia war, I don't know. Crime rates went through the roof in every country. Illegal weapons were put into mass production, citizens were rioting, churches were "cleansing" the earth," Akira twisted her mouth in disgust. "Basically, religion was banned. The past was wiped clean. The only history we need to know about is that which affects our economy," she explained. Light stared at her with narrowed eyes.

"Search for Kira," he demanded again. Glaring back at him, Akira resisted for a time. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the ticking of an ancient analog clock in the background. Clenching her fists, Akira fought the urge to flinch away from his penetrating gaze. When he opened his mouth to make the demand again, Akira shot forward.

"Okay, fine!" she yelled. Using the screen to avoid his gaze, Akira typed in the words 'Kira, 2005' and clicked search. Several definitions for the word came up, digital photographs of the world before the war filled the screen. She swept through page after page, shaking her head. "There's nothing—" a red warning sign popped up in the right hand corner of her screen, blinking. Confused, Akira clicked on it. Lines of dialogue suddenly swept across her screen and she gasped. Frantically typing and swiveling her mouse around, Akira muttered nonsense to herself.

"I don't understand, why am I being hacked?" she demanded. Light watched her carefully. Akira stopped what she was doing, watching the dialogue completely take over her laptop. Glancing from side to side, she make a quick decision and snapped her laptop shut. Pulling the thin battery out, she threw both to the ground with all her might. She picked them up again, throwing the machines to the ground and repeating the process. Once she was sure she had inflicted the desired amount of damage, Akira started stomping on the pieces of plastic.

Out of breath, Akira observed her handy work. Glancing at Light, she saw that he was watching her with an incredulous look on his face. With a huff, Akira stomped to her kitchen cabinet and grabbed a broom and dustpan. Sweeping up the mess, Akira brought it to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet, bending and breaking any pieces too large to fit.

"What are you doing?" Light asked from the doorway. Akira didn't bother looking at him as she watched the computer being washed away.

"I took a class last semester on computer programming. One night, I hacked into one of the receptionist's computers at the Capital building. Just to see if I could do it. They had a security system in place that would automatically track whomever was trying to access government files, even if they were public. I got caught and ended up in Refinement for two weeks," Akira started. "When I got out, the first thing I did when I bought a new laptop was set up a series of firewalls and encryptions, so I would at least be warned if I were being tracked again…" She left the bathroom, squeezing past Light, who followed her. "For whatever reason, those keywords you had me search for were attached to a security system. Whatever 'Kira' is, no one is supposed to know about it."

Light snorted. "Figures. They could never measure up so they decided to just start all over," he said. Akira glanced back at him as she found her way back to her sofa. Sitting with her legs folded beneath her, Akira watched Light.

"Tell me what Kira is," she requested. Light held up the Death Note and faced Akira. Gold met green.

"It is who I would like you to become."

* * *

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